


A Picture Requires a Thousand Words

by mldrgrl



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Friendship/Love, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2017-09-16
Packaged: 2018-12-30 10:59:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12107271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mldrgrl/pseuds/mldrgrl
Summary: Based off a photo prompt: why Mulder would have a particular photo of Scully and what she does when she finds out about it





	A Picture Requires a Thousand Words

 

They’d been poring over photos and notes at Mulder’s apartment for over two hours, trying desperately to make a breakthrough in their investigation before someone else got hurt.  At some point, Scully’s stomach growled, too loudly to ignore.  Mulder offered to order a pizza, which Scully gratefully accepted.  

 

In the break to order food, Scully stood and stretched.  They’d gone straight from work to Mulder’s apartment and her feet were starting to feel the effects of being trapped in high heeled boots all day.  Hesitantly, though she didn’t think Mulder would care if she took her shoes off, she unzipped her boots and breathed a sigh of relief as she freely flexed her toes.

 

“Make yourself at home, Scully,” Mulder said with a chuckle.

 

Her cheeks burned slightly and she ducked her head to let her hair fall from over her ear to hide her face.  “Sorry, I didn’t think you’d mind.”

 

“Of course I don’t mind.  Whatever you want to take off Scully, you go right ahead.”

 

Scully rolled her eyes a little and tucked her hair back over her ear again.  She sat back down on the couch and leaned forward to stare at the photos spread out over Mulder’s coffee table for what felt like the thousandth time.  She was too hungry and too tired to concentrate though.  She needed food and caffeine, in no particular order.

 

“Do you have anything to drink?” Scully asked.

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Mulder said, peering intently at a photo through the lens of a magnifying glass.  “Help yourself.”

 

Scully got up, stretched again, and headed to Mulder’s kitchen.  She found a can of Coke in the fridge and then opened his cupboards to find a glass.  To her surprise, the kitchen was fairly tidy.  Not that she expected a sink full of dirty dishes and rotting food in the refrigerator, but only judging by how he kept his office, she had braced herself for something a little more cluttered and disorganized.

 

After finding the glasses, she snapped a few ice cubes from the tray in the freezer, refilled the missing cubes, and poured half the can of soda into the glass.  The rest of the can went back into the fridge to stay cold.  She hiccupped off her first sip and her eyes watered slightly, but the cold drink already had her feeling refreshed.

 

“Scully, look at this,” Mulder said as she shuffled back towards the couch.

 

Because she was taking another sip of her drink and not paying much attention, Scully managed to trip over her own shoes that she’d placed next to the foot of the sofa.  She reached for the arm to catch herself with her free hand and there was a horrifying split second realization that her drink was about to spill directly onto Mulder’s lap, which it did.

 

“Shit,” Mulder said, jumping up immediately and dancing the cold drink and ice from the front of his pants.

 

“Oh my God,” Scully yelped.  “Jesus, Mulder, I’m so sorry.”

 

“Scully, if you wanted me out of my pants, you just needed to ask.”

 

“Do you have a towel?  Let me get you a towel.”

 

Mulder futily waved the 8x10 photograph in his hand in front of his pants.  “I’ll just change,” he said, putting the magnifying glass down on his desk.  “I don’t think any of the photos took a direct hit.”

 

“Oh, God.”  Scully bent down and ran her hand across the file contents on the coffee table.  They all seemed to be fine.

 

“Hey, catch,” Mulder called, pausing at the door to his bedroom and reaching into his back pocket.  He tossed his wallet at her.  “If the pizza guy shows up, there’s a twenty in there.”

 

Chagrined, Scully ran back to the kitchen as soon as Mulder shut the door to his room and dampened a dishrag.  She set Mulder’s wallet on the table by the front door on her way back and then she dabbed at the spots of Coke on the couch, which fortunately didn’t leave a stain.  The rug took a little more time, but thankfully the spots came out.  She was back in the kitchen washing her hands when there was a knock at the door.

 

Scully took a towel with her to the door to dry her hands and stood on her tiptoes to look through the peephole.  She opened the door for the pizza delivery boy and then grabbed Mulder’s wallet off the table.  Balancing the pizza box, the wallet, the towel, and the receipt proved to be too much to handle.  When she kicked the door shut, she dropped the wallet and nearly dropped the pizza box as well.

 

“I am a total klutz tonight,” she said under her breath, setting the pizza down on Mulder’s front table.

 

The wallet opened up when it landed and a few business cards fell out.  She picked them up to tuck them back into the fold, but one in particular caught her eye.  It was not a business card, it was a wallet sized photo.

  
  


To say she was surprised was an understatement.  She stared at the photo, wondering how in God’s name Mulder came to be in possession of it and why he had it.  It was a photo taken just a few years ago at the insistence of her brother, Bill.  Bill had gotten married that summer and wanted to present their parents with updated photos of all the siblings, together and individual, as a way of including his new wife, Tara, into the family.  The photos were Bill and Tara’s Christmas gift to her parents.

 

She felt an interesting mix of confusion, hurt and betrayal, like she had been violated in some unknown way.  Part of her wanted to storm out of Mulder’s apartment, but mostly she wanted an explanation.  She would get one too.  And so help her, if Mulder lied or came up with some lame, sarcastic answer, she _would_ storm out of the apartment and he’d be lucky if he ever saw her again.

 

“Hey, did I hear the pizza guy?” Mulder asked, shuffling up behind Scully in jeans and a t-shirt.

 

Scully turned, flashing the photo at him.  “Where did you get this?”

 

“Oh, uh…”

 

She waited for him to say something, her brow arched impatiently.  The more time it took for him to answer, the more her emotions took a turn towards anger.  Her mouth tightened into a thin line before Mulder finally spoke.

 

“Your mom gave it to me,” he said.

 

“Why would my mother give you this?”

 

Another silence followed and Mulder’s shoulders fell into an abashed slump.  He rubbed the back of his head and puffed his cheeks out before expelling a shaky breath.  His eyes darted across her face, but he wasn’t really looking at her, he was avoiding her.

 

“So, uh,” he said.  “When you were...missing...obviously it was news.  An FBI agent abducted.  They couldn’t really decide how to report it.  Skinner asked me for a recent photo and I...I didn’t have one.  I asked your mother and she gave me that one.  But, they just ended up using your badge ID anyway.  I took it from your file, just to return it to your mom, but...it never seemed to be the right time and it’s just been in my wallet since.  Honestly, I sometimes forget it’s there and that I shouldn’t have it.”

 

Scully looked down at the photo, running her thumb along one of the soft edges.  When her mother had this photo, it was kept in a small frame on her mantle, the edges crisp.  This version had a used look about it; whorls of fingerprints visible in the light spots, a tear stain at the bottom, a scratch at the curve of her shoulder.  It didn’t get that way from staying safely tucked into a wallet for nearly a year.

 

When Scully looked up, Mulder had his head down and his eyes on the floor like a child bracing for punishment.  He glanced up at her and then quickly dropped his eyes again and shifted his feet.

 

“I came home from school one day,” he said.  “And my mom had gotten rid of everything that had belonged to my sister without saying a word.  Like she'd given up on any chance of...like she was erasing her.  I managed to rescue a few photos which is all I have now.”

 

Mulder's lips were pursed like he was struggling to continue, but had more to say.  Scully stayed quiet and waited. It took a few hesitant starts.

 

“I...I wore your cross while you...I listened to your autopsy reports on old cases so I wouldn't forget your voice.  I took the picture from your file because it wasn't a crime scene photo.”

 

By the time Mulder was finished, Scully had long since ceased to be angry or confused, but her heart went out to him.  Both her mother and her sister had told her what he'd been like while she was missing and she didn't like what she’d heard.  If her necklace and this picture were talismans that kept him relatively sane during that time, she couldn't be mad about it.

 

“You can take it back,” Mulder mumbled.  “I'm sorry.”

 

Scully carefully tucked the photo back into Mulder's wallet, closed it, and then put the wallet on the table next to his lamp.  She walked up close to him, looked up at his bowed head and then down at his dangling arms.  She reached out and slipped her hand into his and gave it a squeeze, waiting until he squeezed back before she let go.

 

“The pizza’s getting cold,” she said.  “And you have something for me to look at.”

 

“On the surveillance image.  It looks like the guy might have a tattoo on his wrist.”

 

“Might be a breakthrough in identifying the killer.”

 

“That's what I thought.”

 

“I'll take a look.  Should we eat in here or do you trust me with food out there?”

 

“You think Coke is the worst thing I've ever spilled on that couch, Scully?  Or myself?”

 

“Don't even want to know, Mulder.”

 

“I'll grab some plates.”

 

She nodded and headed back to the couch, tried to concentrate on seeing what Mulder saw in the photo he'd been looking at when she'd spilled her drink on him, but her mind stayed with the photo in his wallet.

 

The End

  
  
  



End file.
